Tis the weekend and I am pooped. Maintaining an apartment is tiring stuff. Especially when one lives with others who think that chaos is the natural order of things and find it sacrilegious to interfere with the universe.
There is no way I can possibly move back into a rented room again. Mainly because I have collected too much stuff. The fridge and washing machine for example.
People have warned me not to gather too much rubbish, which would only make my moving out more difficult. Yet how long is one to postpone having a comfortable home to avoid having to suffer a day (or two) of inconvenience in moving out? Plus I am more than willing to pay for movers. Best things since sliced bread!
Anyway, I finally went back to Segambut for my second taste of their famous seafood noodles. We sat right back, under a tree facing the kitchen. If you are acquainted with typical Malaysian food establishments, you would know at once that this is NOT a good idea. When it comes to street food, ignorance is bliss - from what goes in the pot, to the sight of the pot itself.
Yet it is through the unhygienic exposure to these unsung microbes that we Malaysians have stomach linings that can withstand anything short of rocket fuel.
The owners actually make their own chilli paste and while we slurped our tomyam noodles we watched at this worker patiently stirred a humongous vat of chilli and belacan and some unknown concoction. His wok is as big as the ones the Malays use to make dodol. And his large custom-made spatula is as tall if not taller than me. Of course he was doing all this in front of an open garbage shute and compulsory drain with pieces of trash strewn about. And yet, people come to this place in droves.
I so would not recommend bringing any Mat Salleh guests here. They would get food poisoning faster than you can say Ta Pau!
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